Walking Away
by Moonbutton
Summary: Sometimes you should just walk away.
1. Goodbyes

Walking Away  
  
Chapter One ~ Goodbyes  
  
Miss Parker stared at the wooden box intensely, and followed its brief journey into the ground with a pang of pain. Inside was all that remained of her father, the man who had raised her in an almost slipshod, haphazzard way since her mother's passing. The man she had worshipped and adored without ever receiving anything comparable in return. The man who may or may not be her biological father. And the man who, despite all of those things, would always hold a place in her heart as just that.  
  
She tried not to think of the contents of the box, but the images flooded back. The body displayed all the ravages you would expect to find after being held to the mercy of the ocean for almost a month. She had seen him, what was left of him, despite Sydney's protestations. Even Lyle had issued a careful warning; which, if she was honest, just made her want to look all the more. She just wanted to convince herself that it was actually real and not some sick Centre hoax.  
  
The cold January air whipped around her but, like the memorial itself, it had no effect upon her despite the short skirt she had chosen to wear. A strange option for a burial on a cold, frosty morning but one worn in tribute to the dearly departed. Her outfit was one 'Daddy' would have approved of, she was a 'prescence' after all. Only, it wasn't that hard to stand out in such a small crowd.   
  
Both Sydney and Broots had insisted on attending though she suspected their thoughts were more with herself than Mr Parker. No matter how hard she maintained a distance with them both they just wouldn't go away. She was still unsure as to whether that was a good thing or not, but she appreciated their concern. Lyle, who had been suspiciously sincere these past few days, and Raines were also present. The old wheezebag had shown no remorse at the discovery of his brother's body; his main concern had been as to whether anything else had washed up with it. Apart from Willie, the priest and the pall bearers these were the only other attendees.   
  
She suspected there might be one other person keeping an eye on the proceedings; Jarod. She had cautiously glanced around on the brisk walk to the graveside but had not seen him, though she didn't really expect to. Jarod knew how to hide after all. He hadn't phoned her since their last fateful conversation regarding their exploits on the island: Christmas, New Year and her birthday had all passed by without a single word. Though it wasn't unusual for Jarod to keep his head down for long periods whilst he built up a pretend she had been slightly worried he had gone permanently to ground - maybe she had pushed him away just one too many times. She shook that thought from her head, if Jarod wanted to walk away he could have done so a long time ago.  
  
"Miss Parker," a smooth voice whispered from outside her world.  
  
She felt Sydney's hand gently touch her arm, breaking her bubble of solitude, and she finally stirred from her thoughts in time to see Lyle throwing a handful of soil into the grave. Lyle had suggested Mr Parker be buried with their mother, which by all accounts would be a miracle since her body wasn't in the grave. She'd agreed with him only because of that fact.   
  
Shaking Sydney off she knelt down, not an easy prospect in a short skirt and heels but she managed nonetheless, and grabbed a handful of soil herself. Rising she met her twin's eyes and was surprised to see a flicker of something there - perhaps even remorse. She dismissed that thought but was surprised when Lyle quickly looked away from her gaze. Finding that action more disturbing than whatever it was she'd witnessed in his eyes, she let the soil fall slowly from her grasp into the cold depths below.  
  
The others in attendance began to gradually dissipate until only her loyal colleagues, Sydney and Broots, remained at her side. She could feel Sydney's gaze upon her, carefully trying to scrutinise her, trying to assess her state of mind. She pretended to ignore him as he tactfully dismissed Broots and then came to her side again. She continued to stare at the ground rather than face the man who had been more of a father figure to her than the one in the ground. "You don't have to stay Syd," she whispered still staring at the ground, "I'd rather be by myself."  
  
"There is no need for you to be alone Miss Parker."  
  
She let his distinct tones warm her slightly but only for a moment. "I know," she said softly, "not today, please Sydney." She still avoided his gaze, hoping he would understand her words and not force her to use a more harsh tone. He had gently probed her in the preceding weeks, trying to ascertain what had happened in Scotland and she'd been rather offhand with him - something she'd regretted almost immediately but had yet to apologise for.  
  
"Whenever you want that to change," Sydney soothed as he slipped his hand into hers, squeezing gently, "I'll be here."  
  
She tore her eyes away from the ground and towards him, the sincerity in his eyes obvious. She didn't extract her hand immediately, remembering the same gesture he had made when her mother had left her life. He had given her some comfort at that time, as he was now, whilst her father had barely been able to look at her. "Thank you Sydney," she replied quietly as she gave his hand the same gentle squeeze in return. As he smiled at her she reclaimed her hand. Sydney, astute as ever, took this as his cue to leave.  
  
She stood alone at the graveside for only a short time, though time enough to recount the few fond memories she held of her father. She watched a figure slowly approach, intruding on the moment, expecting it to be the one person she had been pursuing for so long. Instead an unfamiliar male form came into view. She tensed herself, glad that she had at least brought her gun with her. She hadn't hesitated in taking her weapon earlier in the day; funeral or not, as long as she worked for The Centre she wouldn't feel safe without it. It was a sad daily reminder of the life she was leading. "That's far enough," she warned once he was less than ten metres away, causing the figure to still his cautious approach.  
  
"Miss Parker?," the stranger spoke confidently hands deep in the pockets of his long coat.  
  
She carefully studied the balding man. She did not recognise him, not from The Centre anyway. "Who wants to know?" She held her hands at her side, tempted to go for her gun as a precaution but experience told her that if anyone from The Centre wanted her dead she would be so already.  
  
"My name's Peter Elliott," he began,"I was your father's lawyer."  
  
Miss Parker folded her hands defiantly across her stomach, "I met with his lawyers last week," she said evenly. Mr Parker's will had already been read, at Raines' insistence. There had been no surprises, he'd left everything fifty fifty between herself and Lyle - who had quickly offered to sell his half of the Parker family house to her.   
  
Elliott smiled and nodded. "I know. He didn't pay me to deal with his financial matters. He paid me to deliver something. To yourself."  
  
She maintained her scrutiny of the odd man who reminded her of an older version of Broots. "And why would he do that?," she demanded in a cool manner even though her interest had been peaked.  
  
Elliott shrugged his shoulders slightly, "He paid me enough not to ask any questions."  
  
"If he did leave something for me, why would he trust you Mr Elliott?" She was already mentally assessing just what it was this man may have in his possession. If he had anything at all.  
  
"I can be very discrete, Miss Parker," Elliott smiled coyly.  
  
She debated with herself for all of ten seconds before her curiousity reigned supreme. "So where is it?," she asked, "And this better not be some ploy - if Lyle or Raines have hired you I won't hold any qualms about making you pay as much as they." Her threat only elicited yet another smile from Elliott.  
  
"It's no ruse Miss Parker, I am merely fulfilling my part of the agreement," he replied warmly. "I have the item in my pocket, I suggest that we shake hands," he added as he began to close the gap between them.  
  
She raised an eyebrow in question and Elliott elaborated.  
  
"In case there are others watching."  
  
"What exactly do you know?," she demanded as he finally came close enough to shake hands. He shook his head slightly.  
  
"As I said, I find it wise never to ask too many questions Miss Parker. Shall we shake hands and finish this?"  
  
She nodded her head in assent, still unsure as to what it was that he was going to pass to her. She couldn't see anything in his hand as he brought it to hers but she felt the metal once they had made contact. The ease with which he slipped it into her hand made her suspect that this was not the first time he had orchestrated such a manouvre. As he slipped his hand from her grasp she quickly closed her fingers around the object, recognising the shape; a key.  
  
"I'm sorry for your loss," Elliott offered sincerely.  
  
"Thank you," she whispered distractedly, her mind elsewhere. Elliott gave her a final smile and took a step backwards. "What does it open?," she asked abruptly, causing him to pause, "Where?"  
  
"I don't know - as I said I don't ask too many questions," Elliott replied.  
  
She nodded, silently dismissing him and watched as he began to walk away. She crossed her arms again, tracing the jagged outline of the key with her thumb as best she could in the restricted space she'd given it. She thought of her father of how he had always lied to her. Would whatever this key unlock lead her to another lie, another half truth, another part of her past that she would despise? She was tempted, for a brief moment, to throw the key into the grave with her father. But she couldn't. She had tried to ignore her past before, every time Jarod shattered another illusion in her life she would swear to herself to stop whilst she was still ahead. But no matter how hard she tried her past always seemed to catch up with her. And she always let it.  
  
Elliott was still visible in the distance when the ringing of her phone broke through her thoughts. She swapped the key for the phone in the secrecy of her pocket, her other arm she kept across her stomach. "What?" She already knew who would be on the other end of the line.  
  
"You must be frozen to the spot by now."  
  
Jarod. She didn't really doubt it would be anyone else. She closed her eyes, willing the fluttering in her stomach to cease. "What do you want Jarod?" There was a short pause before he answered.  
  
"To make sure you were okay."  
  
She kept her eyes closed as her stomach continued to react to the sound of his voice. "I'm fine Jarod, just peachy", she answered breezily. She didn't want to look around for him, she doubted she would spot him anyway. If she did she'd have to chase him; and she didn't want that, not today.  
  
"I wanted to offer my condolences too," Jarod said sotly, "I'm sorry you had to lose him Parker."  
  
She sighed and finally opened her eyes, staring at the open grave once more. Her stomach was beginning to settle. "After everything he did to you Jarod, why?"  
  
"Because he meant so much to you."  
  
She gripped the phone a little tighter, "I hardly warrant your sympathy either Jarod." She tried to put some ice to the words, something she could hide behind. Instead her voice betrayed her, she barely recognised the soft tones that flew from her mouth.  
  
"Maybe not. Doesn't stop the way I feel though, no matter how hard you push me away." Slight emotion littered his voice.  
  
Her stomach began to flutter again and she fought to keep her feelings under control. His words struck a chord with her; she had been in the same position with her father, always being held at a distance, to the side. She'd never given up on him though, she knew how hard it was to walk away from someone - despite everything.  
  
"Miss Parker?"  
  
A single tear rolled down her cheek and she watched it fall to the frosty ground beneath her stillettoed feet. "What?" This time she achieved the harsher tone she was aiming for, as she always did whenever Jarod tried to get too close. Except for that time on the island...  
  
Jarod, genius that he was, heeded the change in her voice and decided not to go down that particular alley at that moment. "Who was your visitor?" he asked instead.  
  
She restrained from wiping her eye, the tears trail cold against her cheek; she didn't want to draw attention toward it just in case Jarod had not seen. "A friend of my fathers, came to offer his condolences," she half lied.  
  
"Really?" Jarod responded, not even trying to hide the sarcasm. He didn't think Mr Parker had any friends, only people he could manipulate or threaten. "That does surprise me. What did he pass to you?"  
  
She silently cursed his snooping, though there was no smugness to his voice - just the usual curiousity. But she was in no doubt now that he'd also seen her shed that one tear. She never wanted to be seen as weak - another wish of Daddys. "Something my father wanted me to have."  
  
"Do you know what it unlocks?," Jarod asked deducing what she had in her possession.  
  
"Not yet," she answered, slightly annoyed that he always seemed to know what was going on in her life.  
  
Jarod nodded to himself as he watched her from afar. "Be careful, Miss Parker," he warned gently, his concern evident in his tone.  
  
"I always am," she said confidently, trying to dispel any previous signs of her weakness. There was silence for a few beats and she had a feeling he was going to hang up on her. "Jarod..."   
  
"What?," he asked, using his pursuers catchphrase.  
  
She hesitated, for a long time Jarod had controlled their calls. In the beginning she would try to keep him on the line in the hopes that he could be traced, but Jarod was smarter than that. Afterwards she would give as good as he gave, their conversations,or verbal sparring, usually involved him taunting her and her denying everything. On the odd occassion she would hang up on him, getting some small satisfaction from that. But now, like the last time he had called, she didn't want the conversation to end. "Have you found your mother?" She asked the first question that came into her head; well, not the exact first question - that would be insane and would have broken every rule.  
  
"No," Jarod answered sadly, "Not yet," yet again copying her words. He had some other things he was working on at that moment. Her question caused him to remember their last conversation - he had memorised every word she'd said. There was something in the tone of her voice, like there was now, that made him certain that the dynamics of their relationship were changing. But it wasn't something he was going to push her on. "I should go," he spoke reluctantly, breaking the silence between them.  
  
"Yeah," Miss Parker mumbled. In all of their previous conversations they had yet to end one in a conventional manner. As Jarod terminated the call she reflected that this was the closest they had come to doing just that.  
  
Slipping the phone into her pocket her fingers brushed against the cold metal causing her weak smile to crease into a frown. She wondered again what secrets she would unlock. Peter Elliott had wanted to shake hands and finish 'it' - she had a feeling it was only just beginning for herself. 


	2. To Stay The Same

i) Thanks to halarious, Reader (you know who you are), Carolina, Phenyx, leochick, Michelle, pretender-gurl and CrazyA for leaving a review...  
  
Walking Away  
  
Chapter Two ~ To Stay The Same  
  
Miss Parker walked slowly around the house, finding it much the same as she had the last time she was there. Only now the house felt lonlier than ever. It had stood empty since Mr Parker had left for Scotland, though she acknowledged that may not strictly be true - Raines may have had the house swept once it became clear Mr Parker wasn't coming back. Or just as likely had the house swept straight away, taking advantage of his abscence.  
  
She made her way to the study not entirely sure what she was looking for. She had racked her brains trying to figure out what the key opened but had drawn no real conclusions. The only thing she knew for certain was that her father had left it to her knowing she'd find it. On entering the study she slowly surveyed her surroundings; this was as much about looking for clues as it was about examining her current state of affairs. The house was half hers, all hers if she bought Lyle out. But she wasn't even sure she wanted it. If she was honest with herself she was never really that close to her father, despite her continuous efforts, especially not in comparison with her mother; and she had the summerhouse after all.   
  
She was abruptly jerked from her thoughts by the sound of someone entering the house, the study door being left ajar as she'd entered afforded her some time to assemble her thoughts. She listened as the footsteps headed towards the study, a vague recollection of a similar situation swirled in her mind briefy, and she was quite surprised when her twin strolled into the room. He, on the other hand, didn't seem too perturbed to see her. "What do you want Lyle?"  
  
"I was thinking, maybe I was being rash." He smiled as he walked closer to the desk she was positioned behind, casting his eyes over the study and, as surrepticiously as he could, over his sister.  
  
"You want the house?" she growled lowly, somewhat taken aback by his admission.  
  
He shook his head. "No I don't but maybe I should just give you my half." His smile grew even wider at her incredulous reaction. "It's yours. I'll have my lawyer sort out the paperwork straight away."  
  
She eyed him suspiciously. "Why?"   
  
He edged to the end of the desk and perched himself on the corner. "Why not? This house doesn't mean anything to me - but it does to you."  
  
"You can't just give it away Lyle," she said evenly.  
  
He smoothed down a trouser leg with one hand, debating how much to reveal. "I can. I was never part of this family Parker. I didn't grow up here, you did. This house holds memories for you. It's just a painful reminder of something I was denied."  
  
She maintained a neutral expression, unsure as to whether he was lying to her, playing some mind game. She remembered that look in his eye at the cemetery, the one that she couldn't quite place. She shook her head of that thought; even if he was being honest with her there was no reason for her to do the same for him.  
  
"I'm not trying to trick you Parker," Lyle spoke quietly from his position on the desk as if he could read her mind. Or maybe he just knew she instinctively didn't trust him. "You really think I'm being underhand about this, don't you?"  
  
"There's no reason for me to believe you're not," she countered. "You've never given me any reason to trust you before."  
  
Lyle sighed and nodded his head slightly. "I know." He stood up from the desk and turning his back on her headed towards the door. "I'm serious though, it's yours if you want it." As he reached for the door handle he paused, struck by a sudden thought. "You don't want the house either."  
  
"What makes you think that?," she asked to his back, crossing her arms defensively.   
  
He allowed himself a smile before quickly smothering it. He turned to face her to find she was studying him closely. Her expression was next to unreadable but he figured he must have hit the target, or some place close. Despite her protestations to the contrary, they were alike; hey were both screwed up. "I used to think you were the lucky one," he began, "you got to grow up here, with our parents." He slipped his hands into his pockets, awaiting her reaction.  
  
She raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow at him, wondering exactly where he was going with this; but she remained silent.  
  
"But, let's face it, Dad was hardly father of the year was he?" He waited for her to flinch or throw some comeback at him but she did neither. "And Mom," he paused again but once more failed to get a reaction out of his twin, "well from what I've heard."  
  
"Don't you dare, Lyle," she finally spoke up, interrupting him before he could cross the line. Her hands were gripped tightly at her side and she was almost certain her knuckles would be white if she looked down at them. "You don't know anything about her."   
  
He let a smile play on his lips, somewhere deep down he got some satisfaction from her reaction. He didn't know why he always had to do this to her, he couldn't put his finger on a valid reason; except maybe that she was so damn attractive when she was angry. He cursed hs bad luck at ever discovering he was related to her. "I imagine losing someone like that, at that age, would have. repercussions. Maybe I was the lucky one, never having to lose someone like that, have them taken away from me," he said softly.  
  
She kept her anger in check, still unsure as to his motives - though she found the sincerity in his voice almost believable. "Is there a point Lyle? Don't you have some experiments to torture?"   
  
He stared at her for a long moment, silently debating his next move. "You know, if you don't want all this," he reclaimed his hands from his pockets and gestured around the room, "you could just leave."  
  
She snorted in disgust at him, having caught his emphasis on the `all' in his sentence - he didn't just mean the house. "Is that what this is all about? You want to get rid of the competition?"  
  
He shrugged his shoulders, "I'm not saying I wouldn't miss you sis, especially your...," Lyle paused, ogling her, as he searched for an appropriate word, "prescence. But what's left for you now? Raines will only play us off against each other until one of us 'wins'."  
  
"Scared it won't be you?" she goaded, a little more uncomfortable under his gaze than she let on.  
  
"I'm worried that it may be you," Lyle replied, a grim line set on his mouth. "I'm already going to Hell, do you really want to come along too?"  
  
She didn't respond. It was all she could do to maintain an even expression as inwardly her mind spun. She had a suspicion that this was all some plot to get rid of her; but then again he could just have her killed, or do it himself, if he wanted The Centre that badly.  
  
Lyle slung his hands back into his pocket. "I wouldn't come looking for you."   
  
"I'm not aware of your highly successful retrieval rate, Lyle."   
  
"It's as good as yours, Parker," he shot back, "So you'd have nothing to worry about."  
  
"I think you should go, Raines will be wondering why his ass is cold," she said sharply, arms still folded. She found the whole conversation to be very unsettling.   
  
He shot her one last grin and made for the door again. "If you want to take care of Raines before you leave, I would very much appreciate it," he called out nonchalently as he opened the door. He didn't look back to see her reaction.  
  
As the door closed behind her brother she sank down into her father's chair and massaged her brow. If Lyle was up to something she had need to be worried. If he was being honest with her she had an even greater need to be concerned. The very thing she did not want to do was become wound up in another mind game, Raines was more than enough. She was loathed to even be considering Lyle's suggestion but he had a point. Stay and she would sink further, and there would be unlimited depths of that she was sure, into the dark pool of The Centre, on the way playing daily mind games with Raines and battering it out with Lyle to capture Jarod. Nothing in that future appealed to her.   
  
She lay back on the chair and closed her eyes, breathing in the dusty scent of the study. She suddenly remembered the time, not long after her mother's 'death', when she had snuck into this very room looking for her father. It was late at night and she'd awoken from a bad dream, the one that had plagued her since she'd seen her mother shot down. Having crept downstairs she'd knocked on the study door, reluctant to disturb her father but desperately searching for some comfort from the only parent she had left. When she hadn't got an answer she'd pushed the door ajar and entered quietly only to find the desk light on but no sign of her father. The small light drew her attention towards the photo frame perched on top of the desk and she'd moved unthinkingly towards it, her father's warnings about not going into the study momentarily forgotten. She'd drawn some comfort from the photo inside the frame, her mother's face smiling out at her. The moment had been shattered by the sound of footsteps coming towards the room and the sudden realisation that she would be 'caught'. Daddy had made it clear on more than one occasion that the study was off limits, a warning he had reissued more demandingly since her mother had passed away. She'd looked about desperately for a place to hide, before slipping under the footwell of the desk. She had hidden there for more than an hour, too terrified to fall asleep and only went back to her bedroom once she was certain that her father had long since retired to his own room.  
  
Miss Parker blinked her eyes open at the memory, a small smile playing at her lips. For that hour she'd spent crouched under the desk she had been aware of her father's every movement. Reaching to the desk drawer on the right hand side she tugged at it only to find it locked. She tried the key she had been left but it did not fit the lock. She wasn't too dismayed at that, instead she reached for the letter opener on top of the desk and jemmied open the drawer. Pulling it open all the way she felt inside as far as she could, until her fingers reached the back of the drawer. She tapped it lightly, noting that it did not sound hollow. She frowned for a moment but pulled the drawer out as far as it would go for a closer inspection. Unfortunately the drawer did not come right out, about a fifth remained inside the desk but she searched around the edges of the back wall of the drawer until her fingers found the slightest of indentations. Slipping one finger in she managed to pull back the wood to reveal the true back of the drawer, less than a centimetre further back - and a letter addressed to her.  
  
The morning after her adventure in the footwell of her fathers desk she had went down for breakfast as usual to find her father hidden behind his newspaper. Still feeling guilty about being in the study, she'd acted as 'angelic' as possible. She had thought she'd gotten away with it and was happily munching her breakfast when her father had carefully put down his paper and asked her if she'd slept well. She'd lied straight away, as she would come to do in later years never wanting to disappoint him, and was unwilling to admit to even having the bad dream. Mr Parker had silently regarded her as she answered and for an excrutiating length of time she had thought she'd been caught out, that somehow he knew. For a long moment she had inwardly squirmed under his stern scrutiny until, like he had come to do in later years, he suddenly smiled at her and muttered something which she hadn't quite caught as the rushing of blood to her head had pounded in her ears.  
  
She fingered the envelope and the inscription which merely read, 'Angel'. It seemed he'd known after all. She checked the envelope's appearance, satisfied that it had not been disturbed by anyone other than the intended recipient. Using the letter opener she cautiously sliced the letter open. Inside there was a slip of paper in her fathers script, merely stating a reference number and a card from a bank. It was not what she was expecting, but then again she wasn't even sure what that was to begin with. She surmised that the key opened a deposit box at the bank on the card and that her father had left her this trail of clues in an effort to remain covert. So what secrets did it hold? Once more her thoughts were torn away. She grabbed her ringing phone impatiently, "What?"  
  
"Where are you?"  
  
She smiled into the phone, the familiar feeling that his voice instigated washing over her again, "The all seeing Jarod doesn't know where I am?" she muttered. "You tell me where you are and I'll tell you where I am. That's the way we do this right?" she continued lightly. She stood and stretched her legs, taking a few steps away from the desk.  
  
"I'm somewhere hot, Miss Parker," Jarod replied jovially as he looked out across the beach towards the blazing sun.  
  
She ran her finger along the bookcase against the wall, brushing against the spines of several books, a thin layer of dust disturbed as she did so. "Should I send a sweeper team down to Florida?"  
  
"I'm sure they'd appreciate the scenery," Jarod chuckled. "Your turn."  
  
She looked around the study. "I'm somewhere cold," she finally answered as cryptically as he had, her eyes resting on the envelope she'd left on the desk. The light fluttering in her stomach that Jarod had initiated suddenly turned to a tight spasm.  
  
Jarod nodded to himself, "Your visitor, the one at the cemetery - he actually did know your father." He had a good idea as to where she was, he'd already eliminated her home and office.  
  
She blinked a couple of times, not even bothering to question how he knew that. The one thing she did know was that Jarod had never lied to her.   
  
"Well they went to the same college," Jarod elaborated into the silence.  
  
"Oh." It was the only thing that came to mind. That strange man she'd met at her father's funeral hadn't even looked the same age as her father - had he really been worn down that much? She thought of the future that lay ahead of her and once more did not find it at all appealing.  
  
"He's a lawyer, works exclusively with high society types, keeps their wayward children out of the papers, handles their million pound divorces. He's very discrete, Miss Parker."  
  
She sighed at the news, subconsciously she had been wondering about the lawyer's motives - it had been a somewhat strange encounter after all. "Anything else?" she asked half jokingly, feeling as though a weight had been lifted. The problem was she had plenty of other things to replace it with.  
  
"Well," Jarod began with a smile, "he's an amateur magician."  
  
She laughed at that, it was all so absurd. And, once again, she wondered how the hell Jarod had found that out. At least it explained the ease, and discretion, with which she'd received the key.   
  
Jarod smiled at the sound of her laughing, deciding it to be the sweetest thing he had heard in a long time. He didn't want to break the moment but he was aware that even if she wasn't tracing this call, someone, somewhere was. "Have you found what you're looking for?" he asked softly.  
  
She sighed again, her eyes wandering back to the letter. She wanted to tell him that she had, at that moment she felt he was the only one who would understand what she was experiencing. But she had to be cautious too; Raines was on her back for her lack of success in capturing Jarod, and Lyle - well she just didn't know what he was up to at all. He could be across the street or outside the door for all she knew. In the end she answered him truthfully, "I don't even know what I'm looking for."  
  
His smile faded at the distress in her voice. "You're looking for me, Miss Parker," he whispered sadly.  
  
"And you're still running from me," she whispered back.   
  
"I'm still running," he corrected before reluctantly hanging up on her.  
  
She stared at the phone for a long time, his last sentence running through her head. Not long ago she'd told him that he ran and she chased and that was the way it would be. It didn't mean she had never questioned why it had to be that way. That was something she asked herself almost every day, and more so whenever they had conversations like that. Finally placing the phone into her pocket, she walked back over to the desk and reluctantly picked up the card that held the bank's address. She began to calculate travelling times as she slumped back down into the chair, resigning herself to what would proably be another dark secret from her past and wishing that she had the strength to just walk away. 


	3. Hello's

i) Thanks to every one who had a kind word to say. This is the end, my friends!  
  
Walking Away  
  
Chapter Three ~ Hello's  
  
Miss Parker glanced at the warm bundle in her arms and smiled to herself. The little boy had slept soundly since he'd crawled into that position an hour or so ago and showed no sign of stirring just yet. It was warm out, early signs of spring present all around. A new season, a new start. Sitting there, in the back yard of her new home, she felt as though she was being reborn, the dark winter that had battered her for over five years had finally passed.  
  
She felt relaxed, even though she knew she was being observed. She hadn't seen him yet but she just knew he was close; that strange tingle she used to get whilst she was chasing him was present. Whatever his intentions she would wait for him to make his move, she certainly wasn't chasing him anymore. That part of her life was over. She turned her attention back to the small boy in her arms, content to remain patient for once. She didn't have to wait too long.  
  
"You look great Parker."  
  
She smiled at his gentle tone and that familiar feeling washed over her. "Hello Jarod," she whispered softly, looking up to see the familiar outline of her missing pretender. They stared at one another for a long while and she let her eyes travel across his person, taking in every detail; it had been so long since she'd actually set eyes on him. 'Short telephone conversations really were no replacement,' she decided.   
  
"Mind if I take a seat?," Jarod asked, buoyed by her welcome and breaking the comfortable silence between them. When he had begun to track her down he'd had his own 'moment of weakness'; doubts that she did actually want to be found by him. She'd covered her tracks well - he'd expected no less - and in the process he'd had to expend a lot of time and energy to locate her. Time enough to wonder if he was now redundant in her life.  
  
She shook her head in reply and watched him take a position next to her on the bench, carelessly slinging the bag that had been on his shoulder down beside him. The abruptness of the bench meant he had to sit quite close to her and she felt those feelings wash over her once more at his proximity. They both stared ahead silently. From the corner of her eye she saw Jarod finally turn his attention back to her. She waited for his questions with bated breath, feeling sure he would have plenty.  
  
"He looks very comfortable," Jarod uttered, looking longingly at the toddler in her lap. The boy had one arm slung across Parker's chest, a podgy hand grasping at the thin material of her t-shirt. His head rested at an angle just under her shoulder, the other arm hanging loosely out of Jarod's sight. The boy's legs were occupying most of her lap, Parker's arms half supporting him, half embracing him. If the news that she had left The Centre had pleased him then Sydney's revelation, a week or so later when the dust had begun to settle, that she had took her little brother with her positively thrilled him. As did the sight of her now.  
  
She smiled at his comment, instinctively holding the child closer and wondering if there was the slightest hint of jealousy in Jarod's voice. "He sleeps like the dead, for want of a better expression," she explained as she turned to look at Jarod, "I don't know what, if anything, happened to him at The Centre but he's settled very well to his new way of life." She felt him shift a little in her arms as if he knew he was the topic of conversation. She'd been surprised at how easy it was to fall in love with the boy, how easily he reciprocated.  
  
"So have you." Jarod shot her a crooked smile. Questions that had been at the forefront of his mind all the time he'd been looking for her suddenly struggled for his attention, they no longer seemed so important; but there was one thing he wanted to know. There was a long silence before he spoke again. "Why did you finally decide to leave?" It was the question that had plagued him the most and he suspected the answer lay in whatever Mr Parker had left for her. But what was so abhorrant to her as to make her finally leave?  
  
"It was time," she whispered honestly. She knew there'd never be a perfect time to leave that place, but it was as close to that as she'd wanted to get. She looked back to the child and traced her hand along his brow, "When I decided to go I knew I couldn't leave this one behind, lose another soul to The Centre." She was unwilling to condemn another innocent to a life that, at best, would be like hers or, at worst, would be like Jarod's. Or should that be the other way around?  
  
"Shocked you, huh?" Miss Parker smiled as she turned back to him.   
  
Jarod smiled widely in return. "I have to admit to being somewhat surprised," he agreed. The past year had been a roller coaster ride, one that had reached a nadir on his return from the island; being so close to his mother, and even closer to Parker, only to lose them both, had saddened him. In his following conversations with Parker he had allowed himself to think that he was on the way back up - only to be thrown completely off track when she had upped and left.  
  
She continued to smile at him, her eyes roaming over every inch of his face now that she had the opportunity, and freedom, of a closer view. If he felt her scrutiny he never let it show.  
  
"I thought we were in for the long haul, Parker," Jarod whispered.  
  
"Would you have persevered that long?" she asked coyly.  
  
He smiled again. "I think, in all probability, I would have." He studied her features intently as he spoke, searching for his own answers there, for one particular answer.  
  
She felt her stomach flip when he said that; she wasn't sure what she had done to deserve having him in her life but she was determined to keep him there - if she could. There was a swirling of emotions present in his eyes, mirroring the motions of her stomach, but she found it difficult to distinguish anything specific in those deep pools. "And now?" she asked a little apprehensively.  
  
"And now things have changed," he said softly with a cautious smile. "Did you find what you were looking for?" he asked trying to turn the conversation back towards her desertion, and away from the delicious thoughts about her that were churning in his head; she looked so beautiful right then. He'd observed her with the child for more than an hour before he'd approached and had been awestruck by her gentleness with the little boy. He'd been confused about his feelings for her for a long time now. There were times, at the start of their 'game', when he really did come close to hating her and the things that she did. But those feelings never lasted long, wiped away by something more consistent. Something he'd only recently become to understand.  
  
She shrugged her shoulders slightly, "Not exactly. I found me." It had been a surprise to her really, she'd been running from herself for so long. She had followed the clues to a safety deposit box, the irony of her father's choice not going amiss on her, to find another letter and a file. The letter had been disappointing; a recap of everything he had taught her, of how her place was at The Centre, how it was her time to shine. She'd slumped down in the vault there and then, thankful she was alone, hurt that her father could not use his last opportunity to 'speak' to her to tell her the only thing she ever really wanted to hear from him: that he loved her. The file, well that was her key to The Centre. The notes that her great grandfather had made over a century ago, words that had set The Centre on a path to it's present glory. Words that had made her life so miserable. She knew it wasn't as simple as that, there was always free will. She didn't have to stay at The Centre, she didn't have to chase Jarod. Those things were done to please someone else.  
  
Jarod smiled weakly at the frown on her face, a small part of him wishing he didn't have to be so damn inquisitive. He always seemed to hurt her, even if it was unintentional. "Parker..." Jarod began, desperately wanting to reach out to her but mindful of past rejections and still unsure as to where he stood.  
  
"I found the lock that key opened," she said evenly, preventing Jarod from elaborating any further.  
  
He heeded her change of subject. "Not what you wanted to hear?" he asked softly.  
  
"No," she gave him a brief outline of the contents of the box, of how her future was 'supposed' to be until she finally found the strength to walk away. She'd always known she was on the wrong path, it was acting upon those thoughts that was the hard part. How many people continue along a road they don't particularly care for just because it's the easiest option. Well, she wouldn't do that any longer.  
  
Outwardly Jarod didn't smile, but inwardly he was beaming. She'd chosen a different path. It was all he'd ever wanted for her, to realise what The Centre entailed and to be as free as he was. As he almost was. His freedom was continually impinged by his reluctance to cut all ties to The Centre and with those people he cared about. She, however, had found the courage to do just that and he couldn't help but admire her all the more for it. "What did you do with the file?" Jarod asked curiously.  
  
"It's somewhere safe," she replied. She wasn't sure what she should do with it, burning it had sprung to mind initially but she felt she should hang on to it as a precaution - or as a bargaining chip. She couldn't be certain that they wouldn't find her. "I think it's only an inkling of the scrolls anyway," she whispered softly. It had been something her father had said just before he jumped, 'The new Parker legacy begins with you'. She'd wanted desperately to believe that he had jumped for the right reasons but her 'inheritance' only proved to her that he had jumped for The Centre.   
  
"He wouldn't have been able to write everything word for word, just the profitable highlights," Jarod agreed, not entirely following, "Details of myself, and the other pretenders." There was short silence between them before he spoke again, "Have you read the file?"  
  
"No," she shook her head as she answered. "My father took the scrolls to the bottom of the ocean and in doing so tried to ensure that things would continue as they were. I don't want that reality," she said determinedly. It was a calculated decision; Mr Parker had read the scrolls before he leapt - he obviously didn't want anyone else to know what the scrolls said. But he knew that his 'daughter' would find her inheritance. He'd been training her for most of her life to take over at The Centre, and that way she would have the means to. Or she would have. Six years ago she'd have grabbed the opportunity with both hands; three years ago she'd have accepted it less enthusiastically, but gone along with it anyway. But not now. There was nothing left for her.  
  
When that realisation hit home she'd begun to make plans to leave with a stubborn determination. Everytime she'd spoken to Sydney she'd almost caved in, thinking she could do more if she stayed at The Centre. But Sydney was an adult, he could take care of himself and had been doing so for some time - it was his decision to stay. The same probably couldn't be applied to Broots, he'd been bailed out of a few sticky moments before, but she figured that Sydney would look out for him, the psychiatrist had a paternal streak that would be suddenly lacking a surrogate child when she left.  
  
Jarod frowned slightly, "I have a confession to make," he began slowly, "I've been looking for the scrolls."   
  
"Somewhere hot," she uttered with a smile, remembering his cryptic comment. She shook the smile off. "I thought you had misgivings about their authenticity?"  
  
"I do," he replied. He'd gone looking for them because he thought she would be interested in reading them, in finding out about their future. That's what she'd said anyway; if they could find the scrolls maybe they'd find their future. Now she'd walked away from all that and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to.  
  
"Have you read them?" She didn't doubt for a moment that he'd found them; she knew both Raines and the Triumverate had been unsuccessful in their attempts to locate the missing scrolls. But not Jarod.   
  
Jarod grinned at her assumption that he'd found the files. She was right - though it wasn't as easy as he'd planned. "No, I called you." He'd tried her cell, home, and then office - there had been no answer. "Sydney told me you were 'missing'; at that point it wasn't clear that you'd left of your own jurisdiction." He'd dropped everything, fearing the worst.  
  
"You haven't read them?" she asked increduously.   
  
"No," Jarod reiterated, "I always thought we'd read them together." His unanswered phone calls had been to suggest just that. "Finish what we started on that island." He suddenly realised that the scrolls were not as important to him as he thought, if they had been he'd have read them with or without her.  
  
Her eyes strayed to the bag he had brought with him, he probably had the scrolls right there. She'd resisted looking at the file, certain she'd be reading a scaled down version. Yet, not long ago, she'd been determined to read the scrolls, and now here was her chance. She shook her head slightly, making her decision and looked Jarod in the eye. "I'm not interested in the scrolls Jarod. I decide how I live my life; not my father, not The Centre, and certainly not some words scribbled down long before I was born." She waited for him to argue a case for reading the scrolls but he did no such thing.   
  
He nodded silently. He understood her reluctance, even agreed with her. He wished the scrolls never existed having, indirectly, been the reason his life, and the others lives, had been stolen. "And our future, Miss Parker?" he asked with a deep voice. He'd asked a similar question not so long ago and had felt the sting of rejection. He held his breath for her answer.  
  
"I'm done chasing Jarod, are you through running?"   
  
He stared into the depths of her eyes, finally being allowed to see further into her soul than ever before. Her question was not just about running and chasing, it went deeper than that. "I'm tired of running," he replied seriously.   
  
She smiled at his answer, "I seem to remember starting something a hell of a lot more interesting than the scrolls on that damn island."  
  
Her smile reached her eyes, lighting up her face and making her appear even more beautiful, if that was possible. At that moment he felt he'd finally found his home, and it was with her. Since he'd escaped it was all he'd been searching for and he willingy surrendered to it. He leant forward slowly, eyes locked on hers as she mirrored his movements as best she could with her arms full. They were almost as close to kissing as they had been on that island. Almost.  
  
A small hand reached between them, stilling their movements and coming to rest on Parker's shoulder. She smiled apolegitically as the small body in her lap began to move again, this time bringing his other arm up to her other shoulder.  
  
Jarod leant back slightly, holding her eyes he promised to return her kiss someday.  
  
She laughed softly at his words, "I'll hold you to that." She felt two little hands snake around her neck and she turned her attention to the youngest person present as he leant sleepily against her. She was acutely aware that Jarod was observing them both keenly and she suddenly felt quite apprehensive. Small eyelashes fluttered softly as he came to life. "Hey, sweetie," she murmured to him as his eyes adjusted to the light. She kept her arms around him as he began to shift in her lap so he could stand and face her. She held her breath, awaiting his reaction to the man beside them but the child remained focussed upon her. She brushed her hand through his dark hair trying to settle down his sleep tussled locks. "There's someone I want you to meet," she spoke softly, "He's come a long way to see us." The toddler followed her eyes to Jarod.  
  
The first thing that struck Jarod was the boy's smile; the wide grin that had spread across his face when he'd become aware of Jarod's presence.  
  
"I named him Jay," she whispered as she struggled to hold onto the boy. Jay had relinquished his hold on her, stretching out his arms towards Jarod, trying to toddle over to him. No one at The Centre had bothered to give the child a name.   
  
Jarod's eyes flickered briefly to hers, seeking permission to take the child. He swung Jay onto his lap, letting the child stand upright but kept both of his hands securely around him, so that they were face to face. "He has your eyes Parker," Jarod whispered as he looked into familiar blue grey orbs.  
  
"I know," she replied quietly. She watched them closely, wondering if Jarod would recognise the same features she had. Jay was running his hands intently over Jarod's face, she could almost see both of their minds working overdrive trying to figure each other out. Once they had been safely away from The Centre she had finally allowed herself to study Jay's feaures and she suspected her initial suspicions were correct. She'd probably always subconsciously suspected it.   
  
He stared at Jay, looking past those beautiful eyes and finally getting a closer look at the child. Jay, having finished exploring Jarod's face with his hands, grinned again. "Hello Jay," he whispered softly as a thought struck him. "Is Jay..." he began to ask Parker, still staring at the boy. Her boy. Quite possibly his boy.   
  
"Mine? Ours?" she finished for him.  
  
He dragged his eyes away from Jay to meet hers.  
  
She smiled weakly, "I believe he is."  
  
He nodded, silently agreeing with her before two small hands grabbed at his face, seeking attention. With a smile Jarod lifted Jay up into the air, causing him to giggle, then drew him closer, wrapping his arms around him as an indescribable feeling washed over him. He glanced over at Parker, who was still studying them both, and caught her eyes. She brought one hand across to rest on the back of his, lacing her fingers with his own. He was finally home. 


End file.
